


Trick or Treat

by yakalskovich



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Allusions to cannibalism, Halloween, M/M, Post-Fall, Season/Series 04, Will and Hannibal in Cuba, useful life skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 09:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakalskovich/pseuds/yakalskovich
Summary: There are no trick-or-treaters in Cuba





	Trick or Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Spontaneous little snippet for Saph -- happy Halloween!

It was Will who mainly made their living, earned the roof over their heads and the innumerable favours you needed to get by in a small fishing town in Cuba, where the legal money was worth little and dollars were hard to come by. But the ability to repair boat motors in whatever shape they might be? Practically a license to print money, and a foot in the door of the favour-based barter economy of the town. Add to that his special skills, in catching difficult fish and calming difficult dogs, and WIll Graham found himself more popular than he had ever been in his life.

People didn’t even mind very much that he was living with an older man who spoke a strangely flawless Castilian Spanish, cooked, and played classical music; on the contrary, they started hiring Hannibal to cater at weddings and fifteenths birthdays, or play at funerals.

 _Dia de los muertos_ , apparently, was a bit of both -- and most certainly not Halloween as they knew it from home. Hannibal was busy on that day, delivering cake and sweets, practicing with his piano students -- all girls -- and accepting drinks of rum on the way.

He was sparkling with an almost dangerous cheer when he arrived at the harbour café at sun down. squeezing Will’s fingers under the table by the door before bending to pat all three dogs at their feet and sitting down.

“No trick or treaters on Cuba,” he remarked, idly, while scratching their newest acquisition, Keisha, under her chin. She was far too fluffy for the climate, but adored Will. They all did, including Hannibal. He leaned back, accepted coffee from Consuelo, and inhaled the scent of fish and motor oil that followed Will these days. So much better than the ship-adorned bottle scent.

“Are you relieved, or do you miss the chance to stock up your larder?” Will asked, with that little tilt of his head that told Hannibal that he was teasing, fishing for an outrageous answer or a historical aside.

“I quite enjoyed the trick-or-treaters,” Hannibal said, with a teasing little smile of his own. “I usually made flapjacks and rocky road to give out to those who came to my kitchen door in Baltimore."

“You gave pancakes and ice cream to children?” Will asked, genuinely confused. Keisha wuffed; she was very protective of Will’s happiness. Hannibal loved that she would even stand up to him for Will’s sake; it kept him from straying.

“No such things,” Hannibal said, shaking his head with a smile. "I learned to make those treats from a friend who lives in London, so they might be a British speciality -- dark and gooey, with treacle, very fitting to take away, and quite crunchy. Actually, compared to what people usually give to children on Halloween, they are practically health food."

“You would,” Will said, fondly. “Even though I can’t picture you handing out anything, even health food, to excited children dressed up as things much less scary than yourself.”

“A chance to decorate my doors and windows with skulls and antlers, carve emblemata of human transience in the translucent flesh of pumpkins, and teach children that there is an alternative to the garbage they are being fed by their society -- and it tastes better?” Hannibal smiles. “I loved Halloween. In the year Abigail was with me, I found her a bat costume the opera had sold from their wardrobe surplus; it made her barely recognisable as human, much less female, and she was at the door with me all evening. Children came along the path lit by the pumpkins we had carved together, with tiny stags and bleeding hearts, we played records by very serious contemporary composers, and had enormous fun with it. Of course, you were at the Baltimore State Hospital at the time, and we quite missed you.”

Will raised one eyebrow, his way of saying, _And whose fault was that?_ Both of them were so good at gauging and mirroring others, they had developed a shared, minimalistic idiolect in the endless mirror cabinet of their love.

“Do you reckon they were very traumatised, realising who they had met, in hindsight? When Freddie Lounds dragged us through all the national tabloids, and some serious news outlets?”

“Oh, my good Will!” Hannibal laughed. “Do not underestimate the recklessness of the young spirit. I am certain that by now they are teens, go to teenage Halloween parties and impress everybody with the bragging rights conferred by having trick-or-treated Hannibal the Cannibal. _We couldn’t tell at the time,_ they will say to their hushed, awed and scared little friends near midnight, _but we’re sure the candy was people!_ ”

Hannibal leans back, giving Will a smile that showed all of his fang-like teeth.

“Spoiler: it wasn’t!”


End file.
